august and christine hollis life on the run
by graykitty5
Summary: an alternate ending to the fringe episode "august." i really liked the characters. i decided to have august live and help hide christine from the assassins and the other observers. he grows emotionally due to the developing relationship and contact with christine. this story contains fun fluff, drama, and romance. reading pairs well with a nice glass of wine. chapter one.
**Based on the fringe episode "august" season 2, episode 8. One may wish to watch the episode again if one has forgotten the plot.**

 **In my version, august still kidnaps Christine in order to save her from the doomed airplane flight. the assassin Donald long does find them at the motel, but august is able to neutralize him, and he plans an escape with Christine to outrun the assassin or any others in an effort to protect her and save her from death. He plans to determine the reason he sees she has a future. it is an alternate ending to the original episode.**

 **Escape** : august entered the dark motel room, had just left December and his other colleagues who did not approve of his actions with regards to Christine's salvation. He knew that donald would be at the motel soon. august looked to Christine. Before he left, august had shown her the news report of the airplane crash, and She had heard his explanation for kidnapping her: to keep her from boarding the plane that would crash resulting in her death. Now he held her gaze and said, "you have to come with me now." he continued to speak, "you are still in danger. I want to protect you. Do you trust me?" august asked her unbinding her wrists looking into her eyes with what he thought demonstrated sincerity. she looked into the eyes of the bald, pale-skinned man, and _felt_ trust. "yes," she answered him, looking into his eyes. He said, "follow me. stay close to me. We are going to the blue car." she grabbed her purse and willed herself to be brave." okay, I'm ready," she said. He held what appeared to be some type of gun in one hand, a briefcase in the other, carefully opened the door of the motel room, she heard an unknown male voice yell, "august! Let me kill her!" august quickly assessed the situation, and fired his gun in the direction of the voice, and said to christine," now, let's go." she followed him to the blue car, felt the danger, saw a man laying on the ground in the parking lot, a gun near him, sensed the urgency to get into the car and go as far from this motel as possible. "stay down," he told her as she got into the back seat. She trembled, shaken by what had just happened. He got into the driver's seat and speed them towards what she hoped was safety and an explanation. She asked in a gush of terror, "who are you? what have I done? Will you take me to safety? What is going on? Who was that other man? Why am I in danger?!" He looked into the rearview mirror, seeing just the top of her head. "my name is august. you have not done anything wrong. I will keep you safe from my colleagues who want to correct my actions with your destiny. My colleagues believe you must die now since you should have died in that airplane crash. They will send another assassin to kill you, since I just now neutralized the one at the motel. that man you saw on the ground, an assassin, he meant to kill you. I must make _my colleagues_ understand the reason you are unique and important as I told them earlier today. I can stop a bullet; the police cannot," august said. " Does that explain your situation?" he asked. "correct your actions with my destiny?" she asked. "we are not to interfere with the natural course in a person's life. We are to observe _your kind's_ life. We observe. Period. My interactions with you are against our rules," he answered. To her, the explanations seemed irrational, very sci-fi, yet, but she trusted the man she had just met, who had tied her to a chair. And yet, she trusted him, _felt_ he was telling the truth. " _my kind_?" she asked. "I am advanced, evolved, engineered human, time and space traveling, from the future, with the ability to teleport. Part of a scientific observation team sent to observe our predecessors, _your kind_ , non evolved humans. We rely upon logic and reason, not our emotions to perform our job duties. We do not have emotional responses or sensory perception as your kind do," he said matter of factly. She took a few minutes to think about his explanation. it sounded nuts, yet she believed him. "that man at the motel was sent to kill me?" she asked. "yes, " august responded. "I believe you," she said more to herself than to him, to herself, affirming it, what she _felt_ , knew. "If you are supposed to just observe, then why did you feel compelled to interfere with my destiny?" she asked. "the reason I do not completely know how to explain. I just see that you are important, unique. Those thoughts compelled me to change your destiny, to save you," he answered. "you don't even know me," she said. "I know who you are. You are Christine hollis, an orphan, an art student," he replied. She had noticed he spoke in a level tone of voice this entire time, revealing little to no emotion as her voice and body language did. Again she took some minutes to process his words. 'no emotions? That explains your flat affect," she said. "I will help you prove to them that I am unique and important. What is your plan? How can I help?" she asked. he didn't answer right away. "We get away from Boston. They will look for us here. Switch cars, move from place to place. you stay indoors. I will find an opportunity to contact my colleges once I can better explain your importance to them, once I better understand your significance to myself," he said. "don't you think you should have devised a better plan before you kidnapped me? Perhaps had the right explanation for them?!" she yelled at him. He replied, "I believe I acted on impulse when I foresaw that your plane was going to crash. There was no time to speak with my colleges beforehand without the risk of you getting onto that plane. Afterwards, I told them you are unique. I knew that one of my colleagues had interfered with the course of another person's life. That person was not killed. I thought that my colleagues would understand the situation," he actually sighed as he thought of september. The sigh surprised him, to do something unique to _her kind_. But of late, he had found himself doing things unique to _her kind_. He rubbed the back of his neck, at his technology implant -not sure the reason for this gesture, except an unusual tingle sensation. He wondered, "could this be those feelings we have been cautioned about, told to suppress?" no other logical reason could be determined. Christine's raised voice suddenly penetrated his thought, "and here I am, here we are. All because your _friends_ didn't play _fair_. I am laying on my back in the backseat of this vehicle, driving to some unknown place, running away for some unspecified period of time, with a man I don't know. Been bound and gagged. And dammit, for some reason, I believe you, trust you!" she felt on the verge of hysteria. She took deep breaths, he heard. And then she thought , "okay, I feel calmer." she willed herself to be brave. "I always liked science fiction. So now I get to live a story," she said flippantly and added, "nothing like sci-fi witness protection program." he did not quiet understand her meaning or her tone. ***

They rode a few more miles in quiet before he spoke, "I apologize for hurting you." "I am extremely angry that you treated me the way you did!" she yelled at him. "why didn't you just tell me upfront at the museum!?" she yelled again and continued, "you could have said, 'you're gonna die, let me help you!" he replied, "you would not have believed me at that time. You had to see the news report. You would have been killed." he replied matter-of-fact, level tone. She rubbed her wrists, contemplated his statements. "you could have explained this to me," she grumbled aloud. She could barely believe that the plane crashed, that she was supposed to be on that plane, that he had foreseen her death. Because of this she was not in Italy. Not where she had dreamed to be for the past few months. Instead, in a car, driving to unknown place, with an unknown man who professed to protect her from an assassin as enemy. Suddenly a thought occurred to her," august," she tentatively addressed him, "other people will notice I am missing. Won't the police get involved? Can't the police help?" she asked him ."no, the police cannot help with this matter," he answered simply. "if the police find us, my colleagues will learn and discover your whereabouts. We have many connections," he explained. "where are we going?" she asked. "we are driving out of this city and through the night. I want to put as much distance between us and _them_. My colleagues have likely realized we have gone from the motel. I will find a suitable accommodation at daybreak," he answered. august knew _her kind_ required reassurance, but he didn't know how to give it.***

"do you need anything? It is time to have a beverage," he asked. "yes, that sounds good. Dusk is falling, can I at least sit up now? It would look kind of suspicious for you to have a woman laying in the backseat when we pull into a convenience store or a drive through," she said and added," also, I need to use the restroom." "certainly, we need fuel, too," he answered. He observed and finally calculated which gas station was the safest. "let me put the fuel into the car first, then I can go with you inside the store," he said. Christine waited in the car while he put in the fuel, regarded his pale skin, fedora, black suit. She thought about escaping from him, pondered his explanation for her abduction. she considered what to do-stay or flee-she decided to stay with august. Somehow, oddly, she _felt_ he could be trusted, and with her life, especially since he seemed to read her mind at the motel.****

they walked together into the store, he with one hand resting at the small of her back, the other holding his briefcase. august escorted Christine to the bathroom. "I will stand guard. I will protect you," he said, remembering his earlier thought about _their_ need for reassurance. Those were reassuring statements he concluded. In the bathroom, Christine regarded herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. "No tears yet," she thought as she ran her fingers through her long brown hair, trying to get her brain up to speed with her current situation. A Panicked feeling beginning to set in, but she gulped and stifled it. "got to keep calm, got to be alert," she reminded herself. Just as he said, august stood by the door. "do you require anything else aside from a beverage?" he asked. She thought, realized her stomach felt flip floppy." "no," she said. She picked out a drink, and he propelled her towards the store's door and out it, not stopping to pay the clerk. "what?" she said in alarm. "just keep walking," he said. she looked over her shoulder, and noticed that the clerk did not look in their direction. "how, what?" she felt astonished. He walked her to the passenger front seat and said, "you may sit in the front seat now." he got into the driver's seat and placed his finger in the key ignition. To her astonishment, the car cranked! "wow!" she exclaimed. "human advancement, you really are super human."

After a few minutes of quiet, he asked her, "do you require music? You may listen to the radio. I am to understand that music induces a soothing effect in times of emotional distress." "emotional upheaval, distress, any number of adjectives. Yes, I think the radio would help," she answered. From what he could discern, he was behaving in the proper manner to help comfort her, Just logic based upon her words and body language. And he was very observant, free of those nasty emotions to disturb the flow of observation to his intellect. His five senses dulled in favor of logic. Relying upon logic to dictate his life. He rubbed the back of his neck again. He reasoned that close contact with her he would cause him to adapt some of their behaviors. And be an opportunity to learn, to understand them in a way none of _his kind_ would. The night hours passed. She sat in the passengers seat with her shoes off. She wanted to sleep, but felt too keyed up to do so. She watched the lights, listened to the songs, the late night talk show, thinking of Italy, then reminding herself of this present situation. He broke the silence," I have selected a place for us to stay." with that he proceeded to exit the highway. She was curious, the sun beginning to rise over the skyline." I haven't stayed awake all night since that last school project." she shifted in her seat, sitting upright from her curled position. "I was in the studio, frantically working to glue seashells onto my canvas, too many cups of coffee, cursing my muse for waiting until last minute to inspire me. But, I did earn an 'a' on the painting for composition and use of texture according to the project guidelines," she gushed on, nerves the cause. He listened, and navigated them through the city. ***

Finally he drove into a parking lot of a hotel. a nice hotel, she noted as they entered the lobby. "you will be safe here," he said as he walked with her into the lobby, guiding her through the maze of patrons and staff, to the elevators, and up to the 8th floor. Again, no one seemed to notice them. He stopped in front of a door and again, used his finger on the card slot to open the door. It was a beautiful luxury room. "will this do?" he asked her. "yes," she gasped as she took in the view of the city skyline, the posh accommodations the large suite afforded, not a cheap place. "settle in, please. I must leave for several hours or more. Do not leave this room, do not open the door." he said. "you're leaving me?" she asked. "there are observations I must make if I am to continue to keep you safe," he stated. "Is there anything you need before I go?" he asked. "no, I think I will try to sleep-don't feel hungry quite yet. Am I going to be okay, here by myself?" she asked. "you will be safe. I will bring us some food when I return," with that he exited the room. She locked the door after him, leaned against it. "oh, what is happening to me? What am I going to do?" she sighed. "be brave," she told herself. She walked around the room, took stock of its amenities. She could pretend to be Julia Robert's character from the movie 'pretty woman', the one who found herself with a stranger in a posh luxury hotel suite. "that's what I'll do, pretend to be in the scene," she thought. She had nothing, just herself, and her purse. He had taken his briefcase. She walked into the bathroom. At least the bathroom had personal items. She could bathe and then perhaps sleep At least the bed looked comfortable. or not, as she realized that she still felt keyed up with fear. She should have been in Italy, in her Italian hotel, Her thoughts whirled as she showered. Opted to watch TV from the bed. Just doze. "just doze," she told herself. "even if you can't sleep. Just doze. He'll return soon. I hope," she thought. she watched the food network-hoping the sight of the food would stimulate her appetite, trying to remain calm. She dozed, and then heard a soft knock at the door. She jumped at first with a feeling of fear sweeping over her, but that quickly subsided, replaced by a feeling of calm- _his_ presence, august was on the other side of that door. Not an assassin. She opened the latch and let him inside the room. His eyes held hers, "are you okay, Christine?" he asked. "yes, better now. I showered ,watched TV and dozed," she answered. He held his briefcase in one hand and a bag of takeout food in the other. He lay both on the table in the room. "I brought you chicken vegetable stir fry," he said as he offered the bag to her. "thank you, it's my favorite!" she exclaimed. She opened the bag, read the container labels, and took hers, and handed his to him. "wow, yours smells spicy. Wait, is that other box just chili peppers?" she inspected as she handed it to him. "yes," he said. "is this another advancement in you super human types? An evolved gastrointestinal track for spicy foods?" she asked. "it has more to do with taste-food is nourishment, eaten as nourishment, food primarily bland tasting, excepting the spice," he answered and continued, "you eat because you must, not because you enjoy the flavor." he mixed the peppers into his food and took a bite. No gasping, no sweating, no reaction to the spice at all. She watched in amazement as he took several more bites. "wow!" was the only word she could think to speak. She ate her food, savoring each flavor and smell, trying to imagine how it would be to have those senses dulled. "And all for the advancement of human intellect," she thought, "and it's an advanced human's intellect that's keeping me alive." his words interrupted her thoughts," I would like to enjoy the nuances of flavor and smell as _your kind_ do. I have observed what appears to be the enjoyment food brings to people. perhaps you could help me with developing my senses of taste and smell. I have recently found that the red slurpie has more sweet flavor than water." "why did you get a red slurpie at all if you would have not expected a flavor?" she asked, surprised by her ability to speak so casually, naturally, under the present dangerous circumstances. He explained, "on a particularly hot day when the temperature reached 95 degrees, at the mini-mart counter, I observed 56 patrons people buy the red slurpies, instead of the 34 number who bought blue slurpies. The sales of slurpies had increased in proportion to the increase in temperature. I deducted that the red slurpie must taste better than the blue slurpie and decided to try it. And noticed sweetness." "I think I am following your reasoning. But haven't you tasted other foods we label as sweet? Did those foods not impart a sweet taste?" she asked. "no, I have sampled many types of sweet foods, but of recent it was the red slurpie that gave me the sweet taste," he explained. "when did this happen?" she asked. "I made my observation five weeks ago." he answered. 'hum," she said, "and have you re-tasted those other foods to see if they taste sweet now?" "no," he answered. "we should conduct an experiment-can you detect any sweetness in the food you are eating?" "no," he answered, and even though she did not know him, or the ways of his kind, she thought she detected a note of sadness in his voice when he answered. "well, you may have to turn down the heat factor by many notches if you'd like to try tasting the sweetness in your food. If you've never tasted sweet prior to five weeks ago, and now you can taste it in a slurpie, well, something is happening with your taste buds. I can help you," she volunteered. she ate some more bites of food. Then she asked, "is that what your kind do? Observe our eating habits in correlation to the temperature?" thinking mundane things like that were not worth observing. "yes, we do, that and many other types of observations," he said. "you said through space and time," she noted. "I have observed events that would be considered historical by _your kind_. I have witnessed events outside of the previous centuries," he said. "you don't look old. How old are you?" she asked. "we do not have ages," he stated. she interrupted, " _you_ , not the collective ' _we_ ', answer in singular, please" she said. he started to speak again, " _I_ do not have an age." "that's better. No more of the collective ' _we_ '," she said. "may I refer to _us_ as ' _we_ '?" he asked. "yes, the only ' _w_ e' is _us from now on_ ," she answered. "I don't want to think about _them_ right now," she stated firmly. "what is my mission while we remain here? What is your mission?" she asked. "I observe and plan our next position, I keep you safe, determine how to convince the others of your importance. You remain indoors here," he answered. "so this is a vacation of sorts, except no sightseeing," she said. "I can catch-up on all the television programs, read the local newspaper. Who needs Italy when I can have this life?" she said sarcastically. She felt angry, cheated. She had no clothes, some money, nothing more. "how many days do you think this will take? A week? A month? " she pleaded. "I do not know how many days this will take," he answered. "how, how," she stammered, "how can I live like this, on the run?" "with the bravery I detected within you when I first met you. You must live. I cannot let you die. you are unique, important," he said. ******

 **Augusts' colleagues:** august explained to Christine his encounter with his colleagues from the prior day. "when I spoke to my colleagues yesterday at the Indian restaurant, December said you must be corrected. My superior captain windmark ordered your assassination, according to December. My other 10 colleagues, named for the months of the year, like myself, are searching for us," he said. "there are 12 of your kind searching for me? Oh my God! And you are all advanced humans! How can I be safe? How can you keep me safe?" Christine exclaimed in alarm. "I will protect you. You are important," he stated again.

 **Money:** 'is it too risky for me to go to the bank?" she asked "yes, at this point it would be," he said. She asked "I have a little cash-what about your funds for this little escapade?" "I have some funds, safe in another place and time. I will access that as soon as it is safe for you," he answered, satisfactorily, he had realized that emotion surfacing. " till that point, how are you paying for this suite? Or anything? Are we going to continue to shoplift? I don't like criminal behavior," she stated. "this must be your morals and values. I will pay when I can, to satisfy you, to adapt to _your kind_ ," he responded. "thank you," she answered, feeling better, satisfied.***

After Thursday left after lunch, Christine experienced a feeling of trepidation, worry, wondered what he would do while he was away from her, wondered the reason how he knew "it is a safe time for you," as he had said. she had caught sight of him peer at her through what appeared to be binoculars, that he had quickly placed them into his briefcase. "futuristic?" she wondered as she sat in the chair. "how does he know that I am safe right now?"***

As he walked along the sidewalk, after breakfast, he focused on the people he passed, in full alert to detect danger, he thought about his colleagues. The 11 were like him, assigned moments, events to observe, anthropologist from a future time-to observe moments and places, people throughout through space and time. since he and his colleagues shared telepathic connections, they could feel him, feel him move through space and time. He had discontinued his

medication that created the telepathy that morning. His connection to his colleagues would diminish with time. However, there remained the traces of him in space and time from each time he teleported, with that residual psychic connection, they could find him. They would deploy the assassin. He continued to think while he observed the people he passed. He did not yet see them the way Christine did. He could not see them the way Christine did, as he had to keep emotions at bay. He had to use logic and reason to view these people he passed. Any moment he observed could be an assignment for his colleagues. As the fire truck passed, he wondered, "will october be assigned to observe fire trucks today? See me standing here watching it?" or when he noticed a dandylion in the crack of the sidewalk, he wondered, "will september be assigned to observe dandylions today and see me here?" or as he passed the pet shop, he wondered, "will may be assigned to watch dog owners and see me?" or "will january be assigned corndog carts during the rain?" as the rain pelted him. Or, "will july be assigned 'motels in Shreveport, Louisiana, this city, and see me?" as he continued to walk in the rain on the sidewalk in shreveport. Or, "will November be assigned 'French kissing couples'?" he thought as he passed a couple in a passionate embrace. He knew that they could cross paths at anytime. Keep them away from Christine, as much as possible-but keep her protected from the assassin who could find her. A balancing act. He assessed the people he passed with his special binoculars-that security guard was not an assassin, neither was that lady, neither was that construction worker. He did not foresee himself facing his colleagues or an assassin at this time. He walked back to the motel with dinner for he and Christine.

"where in time and space are my colleagues today?" Thursday wondered after dinner. He stood at the sink brushing his teeth when he felt it, felt the shift in space-one of his colleagues. He froze and wondered, "how close? I cannot pinpoint who at this moment. But a link, he is attempting to establish a telepathic link to me. I must shut my mind." he griped the counter with one hand and realized. "the connection grows stronger-september is trying to link to me," he thought. Christine happened to look over to Thursday at that moment, noticed him stand with his toothbrush in midair, starring at the mirror. She felt alarmed, "what's wrong?" she asked. "grab your purse-go with me to the car. One of my colleagues is attempting to link telepathically with me. If he links, he can teleport here. We must leave. Now," he stated.

In the car, Thursday said to a frightened christine, "my telepathy medication level is still high in my body. I stopped taking the medication yesterday. With time it will decrease and so my connection to my colleagues." "how much time?" she exclaimed. Then she said, "telepathy?!" she tucked down in the backseat of the car, afraid. "telepathic connection?" she asked again. "yes, my technology implant at the base of my neck has a telepathy feature used in conjunction with my telepathy enhancement medication. Telepathy, Useful the majority of the time with my colleagues, but not in this particular situation," he answered. "when I teleport now, with telepathic links, I leave little traces of myself, traces they could follow to me, and then to you," he explained. "don't teleport! Close your mind to them!" she yelled. He responded, "I am attempting to do so. And to discontinue teleportation." Christine willed herself to calm. "what about privacy? Can you interrupt each other while you are in the bathroom?" she asked wondering how she would react if a friend suddenly appeared in her bathroom. "remember we do not have emotional responses as you do," he said. They were quiet for a few seconds. "mind reading?" Christine asked. "in a sense," he replied. "Damn!" she swore. "so without this medication in your system, there is less likelihood that they can link to you? The less you teleport, the better? The more we move, more confusing to them?" she tried to understand. "yes, and the more time I spend away from you, the better, until the telepathic link breaks," he said. She frowned. "spend time away from me, leave me unguarded?" "until the medication leaves my system, with the fewer teleportations, it is for the best," he answered. "technology implant?" she asked. "yes, alien technology from the future. it gives me my special enhancements," august replied. "one day I will understand this alien technology, these advancements. One day I will understand you. Am I safe right now?" she asked. "not yet, " he replied and said, "you are important. I will keep you safe," he said.

 **Alone time** : two days later, at a new hotel, Christine realized that being cooped up in a luxury hotel was not as glamorous. He spent much time away from the room, "observing," he told her. She wondered if he were observing more of the mundane tasks of her kind. "why are these things so gosh darn important?" she mused. She hoped he was out fighting off those assassins and any of those collective " _we_ " people-the villains in this sci-fi show. She watched TV, she read the newspaper. So little to do to fill the hours. She assessed the soap operas, the shampoo, toothpaste, mouthwash samples. . . Slipped the extras into her purse. "why couldn't he have taken me when I had my luggage?" she laughed, then thought, "like there is a good time to be kidnapped due to impending death on a doomed flight!" the time alone made her stir crazy. "action, adventure. . .the making of a sci-fi story. Perhaps I should write?" she thought.

 **Food:** he left the room at 8:00 am to retrieve breakfast for them from the hotel's buffet. He had to entrust christine with his briefcase. Breakfast was complimentary, so he loaded the trey with fruit, boxes of cereal, orange juice and milk cartons, bagels, . .he brought those items to the room, then went down for the hot foods, then a third time for coffee. He made the decision to go down at that time for several logical reasons he told her: "many people fill the lobby at that time, fill the breakfast area, I blend in easily with the people, no one thinks I look out of place with my business suit attire." No one questioned his presence even though he did not possess the needed breakfast buffet tickets. Free breakfast, feast time and meals for the remainder of the day. She appreciated his efforts, felt grateful, amazed he had let her keep his briefcase, his sole possession, like her purse. She did not know what he kept in the briefcase aside from the object that looked like binoculars.

 **Clothes and flee** : on the fifth day when he went to observe, using his special binoculars to view the people, scan for his colleagues, he checked a phone directory for the address of the nearest thrift store. He rode the bus to it, observed three clothing drop boxes with two grocery sacks sitting on the ground at their base. Clothing, women's clothing he noticed, smaller sizes, a few men's dress shirts. He picked them up, walked back to the bus stop, looking like a businessman with his groceries, briefcase and groceries, nothing unusual. He took the clothes to the hotels laundry service.

****When he returned to pick them up, the employee asked for the room number for the fee charge. He had to tell the truth as he was not programmed to lie-the clerk seemed wary of him. Danger, he sensed danger. The employee knew they did not have a legitimate room reservation. He observed a tingle in his technology implant. He quickly left, rushed to the room, told Christine, "we have to leave now." she did not know the reason just felt the urgency to leave, noticed the grocery sacks in his arms, briefcase in hand. "I will gather our belongings, take the stairs down to the parking lot, the white SUV to the right of the fire door. It is unlocked, full tank of gas. I will be there, go!" he commanded. it was the first time he had used an urgent tone of voice since he had taken her. She grabbed her purse and ran down the hall to the fire staircase and descended. He gathered the food, the toiletries, placing them into a pillow case, grabbed the bundle of clean clothes, grabbed his briefcase, looked around the room-it would have seemed like minutes and minutes to do this, but to him it was mere seconds so swiftly could he move. "nothing left behind," he said and vanished, teleporting to the car, changed the license plate from the blue car to the white SUV, plopped everything into the white SUV, suddenly he observed an unusual energy depletion. He sat in the passenger's seat, started the car. christine burst through the fire door straight to the driver's seat upon seeing him in the passenger's seat. "where to?" he seemed to have no energy, difficulty speaking, "drive, drive, across town. I need to rest. I will drive once we get to the outskirts of the city. I need to rest," he said again, eyes closed. "you did well. We are safe," he concentrated on blocking his thoughts from the others in case they noticed the shift in space as he teleported.

***He drove through the night-stopped to refill at a busy gas station. "can I use the restroom?" she asked. "yes, you are safe again," "what happened at the hotel?" she asked finally. "the hotel laundry service. I had to give them a room number for the fee. They discovered that I was not a guest, no reservation for that room booked." he stated. "wait, what laundry service? We don't have any clothes, I've been wearing the same outfit for days!" she exclaimed. "I found clothes for you. They were unclean. I didn't have enough money for the Laundromat, so I used the hotel's laundry service-I made an error," he said. She thought he seemed to feel bad for his error. They rode in silence. She looked in the back seat, noticed the hotel bags, folded, clean women's clothes inside. When he told her about the thrift store, she exclaimed, "you got me clothes from the dumpster!?" She opened the bags, saw some women's clothes, the men's dress shirts. fortunately, the clothes in the grocery sacks were in decent shape, appropriate sizes, mostly matching "it'll have to do," she thought. She finally said," thank you, thank you for the clothes, thank you for protecting me. Oh my gosh, we'll look like a hobos, but beggars can't be choosers." he didn't understand the phrase, but she seemed by her tone to be accepting.

As he drove, august thought, "teleporting short distances through space does not deplete my energy reserves. What is the reason this particular short travel through space and time caused me to be drained of energy? could it be due to a feeling? Logic dictates that the normal response to previous situation to be fear. Did fear deplete my energy? Do I feel fear? I will have to be more careful of this in the future," he thought. he had to protect her; have no fear in the face of danger. He observed the tingle in his technology implant.

 **The pawn shop** : they entered the vacant motel room, again without reservation. Again, he could sense her moral dilemma with this arrangement. But he had only enough cash, along with her cash, to get them so far-he had yet to observe any acceptance of his intervention with her by the others. He left in the morning as usual to observe. He found a pawn shop, pawned his tie clip, belt buckle, watch, and cuff links. He received far less than their actual worth, considering their age. However, the money would pay to keep her safe until he could retrieve more money-that delicate trip through time and space, avoiding the detection of his group. He did not tell her about the pawn shop.

 **Suitcase** : on a walk through the town, he found a brown marbled samsonite suitcase, the mid century modern style. He thought she could use it for the clothes instead of those garbage bags and pillow cases from the hotel. When he presented it to her, She felt grateful for his thoughtful gesture, wondering vaguely, as she placed her clothes in it, along with his dress shirts where he had found the suitcase.

 **Splurge and smile:** she continued to express worry, he realized by logic that she needed a distraction from that emotion. He went to a mega mart, he stole a large sketchbook, pencils, colored pencils, crayons, a sharpener, notebooks, and pens. He observed the brightness in her eyes, the large smile for the art supplies. From a local hospital and doctor's offices, he found magazines, newspapers, a few paper back books. He absconded laundry soap, remembering the lesson in hotel laundry services. He gave her the underwear with a slight look of embarrassment. But Again, he received the big smile. She placed it all into the old suitcase and noticed his packet of underwear and t-shirts.


End file.
